Doors Are Meant For Opening
by dust on the wind
Summary: Every now and then, before you go ahead and open that door, it's worth remembering what your mother always says. Written for the Short Story Speed-Writing Challenge


_I do not own any of the characters from the series Hogan's Heroes. However, I claim ownership of any original characters appearing in this story._

_Written for the Short Story Speed-Writing Challenge._

* * *

_Do you ever think before opening a door?_

That's a favourite saying of my mum's. She trots it out whenever one of her kids has done anything especially dim-witted. And she gets to say it a lot, because we're a big family, and most of us don't even know how to spell "forethought", let alone have a clue what it means.

All right, LeBeau, you can wipe that smirk off your chops. I'll admit, I've probably heard that little gem from Mum more than the rest of 'em put together. As far as I'm concerned, doors are meant for opening, and there's nothing to be gained by stopping to think first. In my experience, when opportunity knocks, it's about to do a runner. If you don't grab hold of the chance quick bloody smart, whatever it is, you'll miss out. _Carpe diem,_ as you Frenchmen say.

I have to admit, though, Mum's right more often than not. Usually the only thing on the other side of a door is an enormous ruddy mess. And I can tell you, there's nothing more embarrassing than having your mother ask you why you plunged right into something, when anyone with the slightest little bit of common sense could spot from miles off that it was going to end up as a complete, unadulterated first-class cock-up. Or as she would put it, _You just couldn't leave that door closed, could you?_

My sister Mavis turned it back on her once. She'd done something daft, and Mum was giving her a good telling off over it. And young Mavis gets on her high horse and answers back, doesn't she? Which takes a bit of nerve, with Mum. Anyway, Mavis asked her whether she'd never once gone ahead and done something on impulse; you know, opened the door without thinking first, just because it seemed like a good idea at the time. And Mum went very quiet, and said, _Only once, but the moon got in my eyes._

We never found out what she meant by it, but I've got my suspicions.

One thing you can rely on with Mum, if she thinks you're about land yourself right in it, she'll do her best to head you off. There was one time, when I was seeing this bird - Clarissa, her name was. Classy piece, and an absolute stunner for looks. Couldn't believe my luck when she fell for a chancer like me, barely old enough to drink in a pub and living in my granny's spare bedroom because I couldn't afford a bed-sit. But Clarissa didn't seem to mind any of that. Oh, believe me, mate, it was all sunshine and roses for a while there.

Then one day Mum asked me to bring her round for tea, and seeing as the old man was away, I thought it was as safe a time as any. And it went just perfect, they took to each other from the off. Only just as me and Clarissa were leaving, Mum took me aside and said, _Peter, you'd better think twice before you open that door._

Of course, I laughed it off, but then I got to thinking. And the more I thought, the more I started to wonder whether Clarissa was all she made herself out to be. I mean, she had the style, all right, but she didn't seem to have the substance, if you know what I mean. So I cooled off, and it didn't take her long to take the hint. Next I heard of her, she'd latched on to some other poor devil, and they were up in the Old Bailey over a blackmail scheme involving a bishop, a well-known actress and a member of the House of Commons.

No doubt about it, Louis, there's something to be said for treating doors - even metaphorical ones - with a little respect.

All the same, it's not something that comes natural, is it? As a rule, by the time I start thinking about what's behind the door, I'm already halfway through. And don't you laugh, chum, you're no different. Remember what happened a couple of months back?

Yes I know, you had plenty of reasons for jumping at the chance, and I had even more. Two years' worth of reasons. Two years of my life, banged up in this miserable rat-hole, and no end in sight. So as soon as someone came up with the idea of tunnelling out, I was ready to start digging with my fingernails if I had to, and I wasn't the only one. I doubt there was a man in the barracks who thought twice about it.

Mind you, I started having a few misgivings after the first time the roof fell in. I had a lot more when Schultz put his great lump of a foot through the trapdoor over the entrance. Lucky for us that he was so worried about getting the blame for it, he just asked us not to do it again, then pretended he knew nothing about it. He's quite handy like that, is old Schultzie.

Anyway, we soon got the hang of this tunnelling lark, didn't we? It's my belief we would have been out of here by the end of the month, if that ruddy new colonel hadn't thrown a spanner in the works.

Don't get me wrong, LeBeau. He seems a decent enough bloke, for an officer. Not at all stand-offish, in fact he's quite chummy. What's more, he's already got the Kommandant wrapped round his little finger. Anyone who can do that is all right in my book. But he's got some funny ideas in his head; and when I say that, what I mean is I'm starting to think he's clean round the bend.

Take this scheme he's come up with, to set up a processing station for escaping Allied airmen, right here in Stalag 13 where the Jerries'd never think of looking. Completely barmy, if you ask me, asking all of us to give up any ideas of escaping ourselves, and stay here to help other blokes get out of Germany. What's more, seeing as he keeps asking whether anyone in camp knows anything about metalworking, or printing, or how to make a bomb with a delayed action fuse, I'd be very surprised if he didn't have some other mischief in mind.

Yes, I know what you're thinking. And you're right, Louis, it would be one in the eye for the filthy _Boche_, which is all you care about. What's more, I've no doubts at all, whatever kind of mayhem he's got planned will work out brilliantly. At least, right up to the point where we all get caught and put in front of a firing squad.

Well, yes, you're right there, too. Back when I was a lad, I may have picked up a few clever tricks which would probably be quite handy for the kind of capers Colonel Hogan's got planned. In fact, some rotten beggar's already told him that if he needs anything dodgy doing, I'm the man for the job. Thank you very much for that, LeBeau. It was really thoughtful of you.

All right, don't keep on at me. I'm not saying I won't go along with it. But I want to be sure of what I'm letting myself in for. So for once, I'm going to take my mum's advice.

This is one door that I need to think long and hard about, before I go ahead and open it.


End file.
